Fathers Of Gods

Fables and tales, hyperbolic epistles, religious scriptures
Our forefathers gratuitously ordained despotic strictures...

In the beginning? Time flows in a circle without beginning or end
And it's only matter that's aeonian, despite what they've penned
For it's all about destruction and re-creation and their peculiarity
Forever reshaping the darkness of the void without a singularity

When we became 'conscious' there was ignorance without knowledge
So our forefathers sired gods and then coerced us into a faux homage
And behold! There were structures and plans and they could foretell
From Apollo to Zeus, although Mars was long dead and Venus is hell

They couldn't comprehend, so we were told to believe
In a supernatural order, of which they had to perceive
Inner sanctums of the past is where they sat down to think
And concluded that our existence must be more than a blink

We were blinded by faith and every crusade was a calamity
For we were never the children of gods, or any singularity
So there's no hope in our prayers, for worlds are destroyed
As we are left with our unrealities and our gods unemployed

In the end? Time circulates matter with new courses to wend
And from this maelstrom of mayhem we will never transcend
But all of our gods are as one and are dwelling with Aether
Their stories are old and the Almighty itself is not a believer...

By chance we are alive, with the others and what are the odds
Of us being here and still reciting the words of fathers of gods?